


Nowhere but Here

by Natasi (SwordDraconis113)



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Gen, Post Season 4, Power Play, Referenced murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordDraconis113/pseuds/Natasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another universe, she has nowhere else to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nowhere but Here

In another universe, Lauren doesn’t make the serum. She arrives at the Morrigan’s doors weeks late, her hands stained red, a gun shaking in her grip.

“I have nowhere else to go,” she admits.

Kenzi’s dead. Hale’s dead. Massimo’s dead and god knows where Bo or Tamsin or Dyson are. It’s been weeks since they left for Valhalla or Hel or some fae dimension that she can’t pass. And without their protection…

She’s tired and hunted and alone. She’s so alone. She doesn’t trust Trick, doesn’t trust the Light. Doesn’t know where Bruce is. Everyone’s gone and she can’t fight any more.

She has nowhere else to go.

Evony opens her door wider and Lauren clutches at the door, red dragging across the frame as she stumbles and catches herself, clutching at a table and seeing red. It’s wet and slick and drying over her knuckles.

Evony looks her over once then turns away, expecting her to follow. And she does.

Her fist is heavy, clutching at hot metal, but it sticks to her palm and Lauren follows, dragging her feet, aware of the world and nothing all at once.

She’s handed a cold glass, warm liquid. Amber. She sips and puts the glass down, leaving bloody streaks across the crystal. Evony holds out her hand, her other sipping the drink. It takes a moment to remember the gun in her hand, heavy and thick. She doesn’t remember buying it. Doesn’t remember owning it.

It’s not hers.

She hands it over, listens as the safety is switched on before its dropped to the table beside Evony. “Who?” the Morrigan asks.

“Fae,” Lauren thinks. “Human. Someone.”

Evony nods, reaching an answer. “I did warn you,” Evony says. “When you terminated your services here.”

Lauren doesn’t remember to nod. She’s staring out at the cityscape, aware of the rain. Had it been raining with her? Her clothes don’t feel wet, it must have started after her arrival.

“Claim me,” she whispers hoarsely.

“No.”

“Please,” Lauren says.

Evony steps closer and Lauren watches her expression, watches for humor or mercy. It’s blank, tight and slowly a hand extends, flicking red and blonde over her shoulder. She scrapes a finger over a cut, over bruises and lacerations. Then she runs her hands over Lauren’s ribs before pulling away. “You have nothing to benefit me as a doctor for the Dark.”

“I don’t want to die,” Lauren replies, softly. “Please.”

Evony chuckles, the sound cold and forced as she turns back and picks up her drink, looking to the cityscape with her. “You wanted to be free,” she teases her. “This is the price of freedom, Doctor Lewis.”

“What do you want, Morrigan?”

“From you?” Evony turns, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

Evony hums, then settles. The silence pulls between them and Lauren remembers to drink. The silence pulls her mind, makes her remember the sound of a gunshot, the hole in a man’s chest.

“If you won’t claim me, then kill me.”

“No,” Evony replies. “I don’t want that either.”

“Then tell me what you want!” The glass shatters, slicing open her hand. Evony turns, curious then masked as she reaches over and takes Lauren’s hand in grip. She places her own glass down, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a set of tweezers. Lauren watches as she carefully remove the glass, dropping the bloody shards onto the table before leading her into the kitchen.

There, her hand is placed under a running tap. The sink turns pink, water diluting the mess. It stings, softens and Lauren remembers to breathe.

“Evony-“

Holding up a hand, the Morrigan silences her. She wraps a dishcloth over her hand, holding it in place. Lauren watches the champagne material turn red, blood seeping through the cotton. She needs stitches. The Morrigan won’t give her that.

But Evony holds the makeshift bandage still, thumb pressing over the wound before she lifts her eyes to Lauren’s. “You are a survivor, are you not?” Lauren feels her chest tighten, her mouth twitching from its thin line. She’s waiting for a reveal, an answer. And slowly the Morrigan smirks. “So survive.”

“And?” Lauren asks. “If I do, if I survive this, then what? More games? Because I’m tired, Evony. I’m tired and I’m so close to letting the next fae or human or whoever is being sent after me, win.”

Evony tugs the hand closer and Lauren stumbles almost into her arms, the hands clutching together between them as Evony smirks. “Survive,” she says, like a promise. Like she’ll make it worth it in the end. Evony’s not sending them, but she’s watching her, Lauren knows. Its why she came here. “You can stay the night,” the Morrigan tells her. “Shower, change your clothes, sleep. But I want you gone in the morning.”

“Liar,” Lauren tells her again. “You want me here.”

“Do not think that I’m incapable of changing my mind,” Evony presses harder against the wound. Lauren feels her heart beat, the sound alive in her ears. “Be careful, Lauren. I'd hate to lose interest, when you're so close to being mine.”

A held pause clings to her heart. Lauren's lungs emptying, understanding her fate. "Yours."

"Mine." 

Lauren breathes.


End file.
